


Letters to Sam

by KlaineLivesOn



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlaineLivesOn/pseuds/KlaineLivesOn
Summary: This was inspired by a letter Tchaikovsky wrote to his cousin about a young violinist.It’s set around the late 1800s, Blaine is a model and he is hired by famous painter, Kurt Hummel. In three letters addressed to his best friend Sam, Blaine tells him how he’s falling in love with Kurt.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Letters to Sam

_ Dear Sam: _

_ Forgive me for my lack of letters but I have been severely lacking in free time.  _

_ I was hired by one of my favorite painters, Kurt Hummel. Have you seen his work? He puts such emotion into his paintings, you can feel it through the canvas, and watching him work has been so captivating.  _

_ I fear I may be catching feelings for him, and I fear that he will notice.  _

_ What does he see when he studies my face so intently? I know he has to, in order to portray it accurately, but I can’t help but hope that there is something else underneath. Does he see the admiration in my eyes? Does he see the love that is starting to blossom in me?  _

_ He has the slightest accent, a mixture of German, where he lived as a a young child, and French, where he lives now.  _

_ Listening to him talk is a wonderful experience, I could listen to him for hours. _

_ We’ve been working together for a little over a month, he was very polite and respectful at first, but very distant.  _

_ I think he has warmed up to me now, we laugh and joke and stay up talking until the sun starts peaking through the windows.  _

_ He is so handsome, and the way he loses himself in his work makes him so alluring. _

_ My hands twitch with the need to touch his face and stroke his hair every time he comes close to me, but I keep them restrained in imaginary handcuffs. _

_ Can you imagine how artful I am at hiding my feelings? _

_Love,  
Blaine._

* * *

_ Dear Sam: _

_ I feel so confused, so hopeful and so desperate.  _

_ It is impossible for me to hide my feelings for him, although I tried hard to do so at first.  _

_ He must realize. He must know that I long for him, for his embrace and for his love. Or does he really not? _

_ I thought that he understood me, I thought he might be like me. But then, he hasn’t acknowledged my feelings for him.  _

_ Could it be that he’s not like me? That he doesn’t notice because he doesn’t care?  _

_ Or does he notice but chooses to ignore me because he does not think of me the way I do of him?  _

_ My only need is for him to know that I love him endlessly, and for him to love me back. I haven’t yet confessed out loud, but I think the way I look at him and the way I seem to gravitate towards him, the need to be close to him, it all should give me away.  _

_ We do things that I don’t think most men do with their male friends. I don’t think I would do those things with you, and you are my best and closest friend.  _

_ But does he do those things with his friends?  _

_ I’m worried because my time with him is almost over, he can’t keep on painting me forever and he’ll need to hire another model soon.  _

_ Will he take notice of my feelings before I have to leave? And will he return them?  _

_ My heart beats faster every time he touches me, will it ever beat so loud that he’ll hear it? _

_ I really hope so. _

_Love,  
Blaine._

* * *

_ Dear Sam: _

_ It has finally happened. You cannot imagine the joy with which I write this letter.  _

_ Remember how I told you I thought Kurt might be like me? Well, he not only is like me, but he also shares my feelings.  _

_ It’s been six months since he hired me to be his model, and I think we both knew this time would come.  _

_ I’m nearly finished with the last painting, he told me about a week ago. My heart broke, that was it. He’d hire someone new and I’d be forgotten. But then he turned around and he fiddled with some paper sheets on his desk, I could tell he was nervous.  _

_ I think you’d be a good artist, I could teach you if you want, he said. _

_ Oh Sam, the joy I felt. Drawing and painting have never caught my interest, modeling is my true passion, but Kurt wanted to teach me! And that would give us more time together, of course I accepted. _

_ Now dear Sam, from here on, I’ll understand if you prefer not to read anymore. You know I’m a hopeless romantic and I fear this will be too much for you, seeing as this is me gushing about another man, forgive me for imposing something like that on you, but I have no one else to tell this, and you have been so kind and supportive, I can never repay you for that. _

_ Right now, as I write this, it’s after midnight. Kurt is sleeping on his bed and I am sitting on the desk next to it. I hope I don’t wake him with the light of the lamp or the sounds of the pen scratching against the paper, but Sam I am so excited I can’t wait until morning to tell you.  _

_ You see, it all happened just hours ago. I was practising some charcoal sketching and Kurt was behind me, just standing there at first, nothing out of the ordinary. But then I felt him close, his chest against my back and his breath tickling my ear as he pointed out some parts of the sketch that needed correcting. But I could barely listen, my heart was pounding heavy in my ears. My nose filled with the lavender oil he uses and I became a little dizzy. _

_ Out of the sudden, he took some charcoal dust in his fingers and smudged my cheek. He smiled at me, his face had the sweetest expression, a mixture of fondness and playfulness. I reached for the charcoal powder, and his eyes opened wide and he laughed and ran away.  _

_ Of course I chased him around the room, I needed to avenge my pride.  _

_ He tried to jump over the bed but I caught him. We were kneeling on the bed, so close I could count his freckles, our noses almost touching.  _

_ My heart was flying around in my chest like a bird trapped in a cage, bumping into the bars and trying to break free.  _

_ I couldn’t take it anymore and I made a total confession of love, I gave myself away completely and I told him in a whisper what my heart was shouting and I begged him not to be angry. He was quiet for a second, the longest second of my life, and then he smiled. His arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me against him, and my confession was met with kisses and caresses. And all the other kisses I have ever had do not deserve to be called kisses, they all pale next to my first kiss with Kurt.  _

_ Sam I don’t know if you’re still reading, but I’ll spare you the details of what happened after the kiss.  _

_ After everything, we ate some grapes and drank some juice. He was lying next to me, drawing me. Then he propped a big mirror in front of the bed and pulled me against his chest, he started drawing us then. He said that it was too precious of a moment to let it pass undocumented.  _

_ I am the happiest I’ve been in a long time, I feel complete and at peace, all thanks to Kurt.  _

_ Forgive me if I made you uncomfortable, b ut I needed to share this with someone.  _

_ Love,  
Blaine. _

_ PS. Maybe one day you can come visit us in France, you could meet Kurt and maybe even meet a cute french girl. Or maybe we could come to you, I miss you terribly.  _

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t really say this is completely accurate but this is the letter Tchaikovsky wrote:
> 
> My only need is for him to know I love him endlessly, it is impossible for me to hide my feelings for him, although I tried hard to do so at first.  
> I saw that he noticed everything and understood me, but then can you imagine how artful I am at hiding my feelings?  
> Yesterday, I gave myself away completely, I made a total confession of love, burst, begging him not to be angry, not to feel constrained.  
> All of these confessions were met with a thousand various small caresses, strokes on the shoulder, cheeks and strokes across my head.  
> I am incapable of expressing to you the full degree of bliss that I experienced by completely giving myself away.


End file.
